Christmas Eve (12/24/11)

Mary's Poem

Exhausted, Mary watched . . .
as shepherds who had left their sheep
adored her child, asleep in the manger;
bowed down to him as their newborn King.

She saw, as from afar,
she heard, in faint but crystal echoes,
their confidence, their confirmation
that here all promise had been fulfilled.

“Angels came to us,” they exclaimed.
“You will find a baby, wrapped in cloths.
This very day your savior is born! Rejoice!”
Then silence fell, as reverence filled the stable.

Mary treasured these words,
added them to the trove
she kept hidden in her heart.
She knew she would pull them out later,
examine them, ponder their great beauty
and the miracle of their meaning.

But for now, she felt too tired to think.
Delivered at last of the great burden
she had nine months carried,
she watched — mesmerized —
as her divinity drained into the earth,
mingled with her recently spilled blood.

Let the men do as they must, she mused.
Today, my struggles come to an end.
My childhood is over. Resurrected as mother,
I embrace my deep connection with God.
I bow to divine cycles forever unfolding
and will nurture my child towards eternal life.

Mary bowed her head,
felt Joseph’s hand upon her shoulder.
“Through my mortal body,” she murmured,
“we three have created a miracle —
our precious baby, our divine son.”
She felt Joseph tremble, whisper a single word,


Melissa Page

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